


Shelter from the Rain

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Mycroft Holmes, Caring Mycroft Holmes, Developing Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Top Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft offers Greg a little shelter from the rain.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	Shelter from the Rain

As a police officer in the city of London, Greg was rather used to getting rained on. So it came as a surprise when the water stopped running down his collar. He looked up and realized Mycroft had come to his side, holding his ever-present umbrella over them both.

"Good evening," said Greg conversationally. "This one of yours?" he asked, gesturing at the body Sherlock was currently peering over a few feet away, seemingly heedless of the weather.

"No, I'm afraid this one is entirely domestic. However, I wanted to see you."

There was something almost shy under the imperious tone. Greg smiled, not glancing at him. "Well, soon as Sherlock finishes I'll be free to go. Can't really start on the paperwork until the morning anyway."

"You can go," said Sherlock without looking up. "Dimmock just arrived."

Greg glanced over and sure enough, Dimmock was making his way over. "I'll take care of this one," he told Greg. "You've been on duty since last night. Go get some sleep. Or something." Dimmock glanced at Mycroft, then turned his attention to what Sherlock was doing.

Greg cleared his throat. "Well then, seems that I'm at your disposal," he told Mycroft.

"My car is just here," said Mycroft, guiding him down the narrow alleyway. Greg was aware that they were being watched as they walked away, but it didn't matter. And now that he'd been given permission, he felt weariness start to settle into his bones. Dimmock was right, he had been going since last night, save a little nap in his office.

Mycroft got the door of his car and Greg got in without protest, marginally aware that he was likely soaking the very nice seats. Mycroft closed the door and went around to the other side. As Mycroft settled and the car started moving, Greg leaned against the door and soon dropped into a doze.

"We're here," said Mycroft a short time later, stirring him.

Greg sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Your place?"

"I have a warm shower and a comfortable bed," said Mycroft, blushing slightly as if he'd realized what he implied.

Greg smiled. "Thank you," he said, getting out and following Mycroft inside. 

"My bedroom has the best shower," said Mycroft, helping Greg out of his soaked jacket. "Up the stairs. Last room on the left."

"Alright," said Greg, knowing better than to argue. He headed up the stairs and followed Mycroft's directions.

He smiled as he stepped into the bed. Of course, Mycroft Holmes had a lovely four-poster bed that looked like something straight out of Dickens and was probably an antique. The door to the en suite was ajar and he pushed it the rest of the way open.

The bedroom furniture might have been antique, but the bathroom itself was modern. There was a frankly enormous tub sitting under the window with a view of the garden. The shower was big enough to include a bench with a small green planet tucked into a corner. Greg stripped out of his wet clothes, carefully putting the pile on the counter, as if he didn't dare throw clothes on the floor and dirty the place.

Taking a breath, Greg stepped into the shower. The hot water was a mercy, taking the chill right out of his bones. There was a selection of washes and shampoos in a basket on the bench and Greg picked out the one that had the least amount of soap in it. Be kind of nice to smell like Mycroft for a little bit.

When Greg stepped out of the shower he found that his clothes were gone and a thick robe had been left in their place. While Greg wouldn't put it past Mycroft to have his own personal gremlins, he wondered if Mycroft had glanced over for a glimpse of Greg through the steam and water. 

Greg found he didn't mind that thought at all.

He quickly toweled off with a warm towel and slid on the robe, feeling much better than he had just a short time ago. Greg fixed his hair in the mirror, then headed downstairs again.

Greg followed his nose into the kitchen. The wallpaper bordered on terrifying, and there was a veritable collage of takeaway menus on the fridge, but otherwise it was a tidy and modern kitchen. Mycroft, without his suit coat and with his sleeves rolled up, was just taking containers out of a paper bag and putting them on the counter.

"There are plates in that cabinet," he told Greg, gesturing.

Greg located the plates and then the silverware. The food was Italian and smelled marvelous as Mycroft dished it out. Mycroft pointed Greg to the dining room and went to fetch a bottle of wine.

There was literally a pair of life-sized knight statues flanking the table. Greg grinned and brought the two plates to one end. Trust Mycroft to never do anything by halves. He wondered how the fancy state dinners might go in this space.

Mycroft appeared a moment later with a bottle and two glasses. Greg settled in his seat as Mycroft poured, waiting until he sat before speaking again. "Do they have names?" he asked

"Excuse me?" asked Mycroft.

Greg gestured at the knights. "Do they have names?" he repeated.

"Ah," said Mycroft, sipping his wine to give himself time to collect his thoughts. "They didn't come with names."

Greg grinned at him. "But that doesn't mean you didn't name them later. Come on, surely your regular dinner companions have names."

Mycroft muttered something and then quickly took a bite of food.

Greg watched him.

Mycroft sighed and swallowed, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth. "That one is Frederick and that one.... is... Gregory," he said, then quickly turned his attention back to his plate.

Greg smiled wider. Mycroft was blushing. Clearly no one had ever asked him that question and he certainly never expected Greg too. "That's wonderful," he told Mycroft.

Mycroft looked up at him. "Is it?"

"Yes," said Greg, reaching over and squeezing his free hand.

Mycroft smiled at him. A real, genuine smile. Greg wondered how many people ever saw it.

Greg took a sip of his wine. "This is all delicious," he said, deciding it was better to change the subject.

"One of my favorites," said Mycroft. "And there is cake for dessert if you have room."

Greg chuckled. "I'll make room."

They slipped into small talk as they ate. The rain beat steadily against the windows outside as night began to fall. Mycroft got up and turned on the lights. When he sat down again, Greg tangled his bare feet with Mycroft's stockinged ones.

When they finished, they carried the plates back into the kitchen. "I'll wash if you dry," said Greg, pushing up the sleeves of the robe.

"That's fine, I know where everything goes," said Mycroft, getting the plates in the sink and picking up a towel.

It was all comfortably domestic. Greg had the traitorous thought that he could rather get used to this. 

When they finished, Mycroft topped off their wine glasses and took out two carefully wrapped pieces of cake. "The media room is through here," he said, leading the way down a short hall. He put the cake down on the coffee table and went to the honest-to-god projector. "Do you have anything particular you'd like to watch?"

"You pick," said Greg, making himself comfortable on the sofa and arranging the robe demurely over his legs.

"If you'd like to get dressed properly I'm sure your clothes are dry by now," said Mycroft.

Greg shrugged. "I'm comfortable and I don't mind if you don't."

"I like you in anything," said Mycroft without looking at him. "As long as you are comfortable."

"Very. I might have to take this robe home with me," teased Greg.

"You're welcome to it, I have more."

"We'll see," said Greg, watching as the film started and Mycroft came back around to sit on the sofa. They ate their cake and sipped their wine as the old film noir spun out before them. When the cake was eaten, Greg scooted closer to Mycroft.

Mycroft put an arm around Greg, smiling softly at the obviously familiar movie. Greg sighed, comfortable, and settled against Mycroft's chest. He really could get used to this. There was hidden strength under those suits.

Greg wasn't aware he'd dozed off until Mycroft gently nudged him awake. "Oh, sorry," he said, sitting up and stretching.

"It's fine. You've worked some long hours." Mycroft got up to stop the projector. He looked at Greg, then back down at what he was doing. "You're welcome to spend the night. I have several guest rooms."

Greg watched him. "And what if I didn't want to sleep in a guest room?"

"Well, I doubt the sofa would be as comfortable, but if you insist..."

"Mycroft," said Greg gently.

Mycroft looked up and met his gaze.

"I'm asking if I can join you in your bed."

Mycroft nearly dropped the film he was getting back into its canister. "I... I would like that," he admitted.

Greg got to his feet and came around to him. "I would too."

Mycroft closed the lid and looked at Greg. "May I kiss you?"

"Rather hoped you would," said Greg, smiling at him and leaning forward.

Mycroft cupped his cheek and drew him into a gentle kiss. Greg moved slower still and wrapped his arms around Mycroft, encouraging him. It was even better than he'd imagined.

Humming softly, Mycroft kept up the kiss, letting his hands drop to the tie on Greg's robe.

"Go on," said Greg.

Mycroft gently pulled the tie free. Greg could feel Mycroft's hands trembling slightly as the robe fell open and he slid his hands onto his hips.

Greg shivered under the touch, his cock taking instant interest in the proceedings.

Mycroft smiled against his lips, sliding one hand over to wrap around Greg's cock and give him a slow stroke.

Greg groaned, knees nearly buckling at the touch.

Mycroft wrapped his arm around Greg's waist, holding him close as he stroked him again, smearing precome down his shaft with his thumb.

"Bed," whispered Greg, hardly trusting himself to speak.

Mycroft withdrew his hand and slipped his fingers into his mouth. Greg's lips parted as he watched, wanting nothing more than to go to his knees.

With a predatory smile, Mycroft leaned in to kiss him again, then took his hand. "Come along."

Mycroft led Greg out of the media room, back up the stairs and down the hall. He stepped inside the door and faced Greg once again, reaching out to push the robe from his shoulders.

Greg let the robe fall to the floor. He saw the way Mycroft was looking at him and it did nothing to quell the fire in his veins. Greg took a step towards Mycroft, kissing him as he started on his shirt buttons.

Mycroft went for his belt, getting his trousers and pants down at the same time as Greg got his shirt open. Greg helped him out of his clothes and then pressed him against the wall, kissing him hungrily, hands roaming over every inch of skin he could reach.

Mycroft's head thunked back against the wall, giving Greg an opportunity to kiss his throat and nibble the junction of shoulder and neck. He gathered Mycroft's wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head, taking him in hand.

"God, Gregory," moaned Mycroft, hips jerking reflexively in Greg's grip.

"Still isn't bed, is it?" said Greg, nipping Mycroft's ear.

"Just a few steps," panted Mycroft.

Greg let go of Mycroft's wrists and stepped back towards the bed. "This is a very nice looking bed."

"Quite comfortable too," said Mycroft, following him automatically.

Greg sat down on the edge of it and smiled up at Mycroft. 

Mycroft kissed him and then went to his knees, swallowing Greg down all at once.

Greg groaned and flopped back on the mattress. Mycroft Holmes was sucking his cock. And sucking his cock  _ very _ well. He groaned, one hand in Mycroft's hair as he bobbed his head.

Mycroft finally pulled back. He kissed Greg's thigh and got up to rummage in the bedside drawer. Greg took the opportunity to scoot back towards the headboard and get settled against the mountain of pillows.

Mycroft dropped a bottle of lube on the bed and a condom. He climbed back into bed and settled between Greg's thighs, kissing him again. "Fuck me. Please."

Greg groaned and squeezed his arse. "Be delighted," he said, blindly reaching for the lube and quickly coating his fingers.

Mycroft moaned as Greg pushed a finger into him, then a second. He dropped his head to pant against Greg's shoulder, frotting slowly against him with every press of Greg's fingers.

"You feel amazing," murmured Greg in his ear. "I can't wait to be inside of you. Been wanting you a while. But I bet you knew that."

"I suspected and I hoped," admitted Mycroft.

"I want to watch you fall apart. You always keep yourself so tightly wound. But you don't have to with me." Greg added another finger.

Mycroft moaned. "Want to surrender to you."

Greg shivered and nipped at Mycroft's throat before turning him onto his back. "I'll take care of you," he promised, reverence in his tone.

Mycroft smiled up at Greg and drew up his knees in offering.

Greg kissed Mycroft and settled on his knees. He picked up the condom and tore it open, watching Mycroft's face.

It felt momentous as Greg shifted forward, lining up. Mycroft's eyes closed and a soft moan escaped his lips as Greg pushed his way in, moving slowly, groaning as he was enveloped in the heat of Mycroft's body.

Mycroft wrapped his legs around Greg, encouraging him deeper. Greg braced himself and kept going until he was all the way to the hilt. He stole one more kiss, then started thrusting.

Moaning softly, Mycroft reached back to grasp the headboard, open and willing and positively amazing.

Greg moved faster, eyes closing as he chased his climax, hardly daring to believe they were actually here in this moment. He listened to Mycroft's breathing, heavy in his ear, soft moans echoing in the air.

With a groan, Greg came, holding Mycroft tightly, heart thundering his chest.

Greg was aware of Mycroft running fingers through his hair. He smiled and raised his head, kissing him passionately, earning another soft groan. Then he carefully pulled out and scooted down, laving Mycroft's cock with his tongue before taking him nearly to the root.

Mycroft cursed quietly, hands falling to Greg's shoulders as he quickly worked him over the edge, savoring the taste as Mycroft spilled across his tongue.

Looking up at Mycroft from under his eyelashes, Greg could see Mycroft had thrown an arm across his eyes. Smiling, Greg pulled off and kissed his thigh, getting up and making his way unsteadily into the en suite to dispose of the condom.

He threw it in the bin and warmed a washcloth before turning back for the bed. Greg paused in the doorway to appreciate the view. Mycroft was laying against the pillows, features softened by the dim light from the window. He turned his head and met Greg's gaze, a gentle smile on his face. He'd certainly never seen the man so relaxed.

Greg smiled back and quickly crossed the room, kissing Mycroft as he cleaned him up. Mycroft took the cloth from his hand and threw it at the en suite. Greg chuckled as it made a wet sound on landing.

"It can wait till morning," said Mycroft, cupping Greg's cheek and kissing him again. "Provided you want to spend the night."

"Wild horses couldn't drag me away," promised Greg, shifting around to get the covers pushed back and then settling down again, tucking Mycroft against his chest. He could feel Mycroft smile against his skin.

"You make a rather nice pillow," said Mycroft. "Among other things."

Greg kissed the top of his head. "I'm looking forward to exploring more of those other things in the future."

"As am I," said Mycroft, settling in. "I must confess I may have had ulterior motives for coming to you tonight, but this was more than I'd hoped for."

"Always glad when I can surprise you," said Greg.

"You have from the first moment," answered Mycroft. "Now, I happen to know you got little to no sleep aside from the nap on my sofa. You should rest."

"Fine," said Greg, toying with the hair at the nape of Mycroft's neck. "I'll have you know I make a fine breakfast skillet."

"If I even have the supplies," muttered Mycroft. "But that's tomorrow's worry. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Greg fell asleep with his arms wrapped around Mycroft, more comfortable and at peace then he'd been in quite some time, knowing that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.


End file.
